


it's not that complicated

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Barista Chris, Biphobia, Bisexual Character, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Jealousy, M/M, Sex, coffee house au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach's just the guy Chris pours coffee for every morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not that complicated

**Author's Note:**

> Because Juno wanted to read it. 
> 
> Notes: There is non-exclusive/non-established Chris/OFC in the background. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. None of this really happened.

"I can't believe he's going out with that guy," Chris repeats, still frowning at his chicken—which isn't even what he ordered. Across from him, Liv rolls her eyes.

"I know," she says, mouth pinched with distaste, and Chris glances at her plate, wondering if she dislikes her salad just as much. "You've mentioned it at least five times."

"Well," Chris says reasonably, stabbing at the dry chicken, "the guy's a jerk. He comes in every day, and—"

"I _know_ , Chris. You told me."

"Oh." Chris considers that. He can't really remember telling her about Zach's newest crush—not in great detail or anything. "Well, it's just, it would be fine if he wasn't such a tool, you know? With that attitude, because he's some Hollywood star. But Zach never does that, and he's a much bigger star—"

"I know." Liv stabs at a carrot. "God, can we please stop talking about him for five seconds?"

"Um…" Chris gives up on the chicken and takes a sip of his soda instead. "Sure. So… how was your day?"

She rolls her eyes, and pushes away the stabbed carrot for a cucumber instead. "It sucked."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that," he murmurs, watching her decimate her salad while he absently swirls his ice around the glass. Her eyes narrow.

"Don't you want to know why?"

"Oh, right." Chris sets his glass down, puts on his best attentive face. "Absolutely. What happened?"

She launches into a long, and twisting tale, about the stylist who works next to her station and how he stole her best customer, and Chris nods in all the right places—for the most part—even as his mind wanders back to Zach and that asshole guy he's pretty sure Zach is dating.

They're always together lately, in the mornings at least, when Zach comes in for his daily non-fat, half-caff, soy latte. It's not that Chris is spending inordinate amounts of time thinking about either of them, but Zach has been a regular for six months; friend might be a way to describe them. It was just Zach for most of that. Until six days ago; not that Chris is counting.

He walks by the coffee house most nights now, with Matt. Walking Zach's dog. Never arm in arm or anything, so maybe they're just friends—

"Are you listening to me?" Liv's sharp voice breaks into his thoughts. He blinks at her.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, sorry."

She frowns. "Really?"

Holding back a sigh, he admits, "I wasn't, sorry. But I am now." She makes a face at him, and Chris wonders just when the bulk of their conversations started revolving around her being annoyed with him. It's just a casual thing they've got, and Chris likes her well enough; at least, he usually does. She's talking again, gesturing with emphasis as she switches over to telling him about the new movie she wants to see, and so Chris puts Zach and his maybe boyfriend out of his mind and pays attention.

-o-

Just like clockwork, Zach comes in the next morning for his latte. It's always early enough that they're not swamped yet, not even close. And so Chris never feels bad for the few minutes they inevitably spend talking.

"Hey," Zach says, smiling as he pulls off the knit cap he's wearing. "It's gorgeous out."

"Gorgeous?" Chris echoes dubiously as he grabs a to-go cup. "It's forty-eight degrees."

"Yeah, but it's January. In Pittsburg, it's only twenty."

"God, that sounds awful," Chris says seriously, making a face as he pours Zach's coffee. "Remind me never to move to the east coast."

"Deal." Zach's grinning as he leans over the counter a little. "Can I get a scone with that? Orange?"

"Sure." Chris starts the soy milk steaming and pulls a scone from the glass case, places it carefully in a bag. "No Matt today?"

Zach looks surprised for a second, but then he's shrugging, shaking his head. "He had an early call."

Nodding, Chris slides the bag across to him, acknowledging the quiet thanks before going to rescue the soy milk. He adds it to the shot of espresso and caps the cup, picking up the sharpie out of habit and writing Zach's name with a flourish, even though he's right here, and there isn't a line.

"Thanks," Zach says again, with a little smile. He reaches in to pull off the corner of the scone, closing his eyes in blissful enjoyment when he pops it into his mouth. "These are great."

Chris watches him lick a crumb off his lip before he realises he's staring. The brown eyes are open again, and Zach is watching him too. He smiles, and takes a sip of the latte. "I have no idea how you do that."

"Do what?" Chris asks with a confused frown.

"Latte," Zach murmurs, taking another sip and licking at his lips again. "Yours are always the best."

"Oh." Chris is smiling, sort of stupidly, he realises. So, he makes himself stop. But he still teases, "You're cheating on me with other baristas?"

Zach grins, laughs. "They have lattes on set sometimes. I can't always resist. I try."

"Sure, sure," Chris says, waving airily; Zach is still grinning. "As long as you always come back to me, though."

Lips twitching with his smile, Zach drops his eyes. He turns the cup around in his hands, fingers settling softly over his name before he looks up again, those eyes framed by his dark lashes, crinkling just a little at the corners. "Of course."

Another customer comes in before Chris can search for a reply; a grumpy man who demands his attention.

He raises his eyebrows in apology before he moves over. With a little nod, Zach slides a folded bill across the counter; just a tip since he has an account. He lifts his fingers in farewell before disappearing back outside. Chris watches him out the long window until he's out of sight.

-o-

"I can absolutely do that for you, sir," Chris says patiently into the phone, but it doesn't calm the irritated voice on the other end of the line. And it's days like this that he thinks he should have followed his father's advice and stayed in grad school. Although, no, dealing with the know-it-all post-grads and their collective chip-on-the shoulder syndrome was much worse.

Irritated patrons whose lattes were served at the wrong temperature are definitely preferable.

"Absolutely," he repeats for the customer in question, who is currently demanding a free drink to make up for it. And since Chris is playing manager this evening, he feels confident enough to agree. The customer huffs a facsimile of an agreement and parts with his name and number before hanging up. "Jeez," Chris mutters under his breath as he settles the phone back in its cradle.

"Difficult customer?" a familiar voice asks. Already smiling, Chris turns around. Zach is standing on the other side of the counter, in the same beanie from the morning.

"They can't all be as amiable as you," Chris tells him.

"Amiable?" Zach echoes, lip quirking up. "That's not a word you hear often."

Still smiling, and already reaching for a cup, Chris shrugs. "I was writing earlier—period piece."

"I keep trying to tell you, you're the next Jane Austen."

"You're hilarious," Chris drawls. "You going decaf tonight?"

"Yeah, thanks. When do I get to see one of your stories?"

"Oh. Uh, I didn't think you were serious about that."

Zach pulls off the beanie, shakes a quick hand through his hair so that it falls over his forehead and props his elbows on the counter. "I was. Whatever you want to show me."

"Okay," Chris agrees cautiously, although he's not sure he wants to share. But Zach grins.

"Good. And actually, I wanted to ask you something."

Chris pauses in his pouring, his stomach dipping unexpectedly. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, so I was regaling everyone with tales of your lattes this morning—"

"You were?" Chris laughs at that, the weird anticipatory thing forgotten. Zach smiles, eyes dimpling with amusement.

"Of course. The stuff we have on set can't compare, so while I was waxing poetic, someone suggested we order from you instead." Zach sets his beanie on the counter, folds his arms over it and raises expectant eyebrows. "Is that something you do? It would just be for night shoots, when we need a caffeine jolt."

"Sure," Chris tells him. "I mean, we have in the past, for other work things. We have a few standing orders, so probably. You'll have to clear it with one of the managers."

"Okay, but it would have to be a package deal." Zach smiles at his frown of confusion. "You and your expert latte hands or no deal." He's grinning, eyes dancing with mirth, and Chris feels himself smiling. He bites the inside of his cheek and finishes the latte, caps it off.

"You'll have to check with the manager about that too," he says evenly, plopping the cup on the counter in front of the beanie. Zach eyes it.

"What, no name? How will I know it's mine?"

Rolling his eyes, Chris dutifully adds his name and presents it for inspection. "Better?"

Zach pretends to consider it, finally nodding. "Yes, thank you." He plucks it from Chris' fingers. Chris huffs in surprise, but Zach ignores him, his mouth curving as he takes his first sip. "Yeah, definitely has to be you," he sighs. "So, where can I find this manager?"

"Um, he's out sick tonight, but the day manager is in tomorrow morning, early for once. She'll open with me."

"Okay, I'll talk to her then." Zach slides his beanie off the counter, cradles the latte to his chest. "You'll be here, right?"

"Always am," Chris tells him, smiling. Two shorter shifts a day, with a break in between to allow his muses time to flourish. It's an odd schedule, but one that's worked for two years, and the managers like him well enough not to change it. It's just an added perk that it means he's here when Zach tends to come in for his latte fixes.

"Good. See you tomorrow, then." It has the rise of a question at the end, so Chris nods. "Have a good night."

"Yeah," Chris says, his stomach dipping again at the quiet tone. "You too."

Zach's still smiling as he turns away. Chris watches him go, all the way down the darkening street.

-o-

The morning comes faster than Chris expects. He's too keyed up—lack of sleep and weird dreams conspiring to coerce him into too much caffeine.

"What's up with you, Pine?" Julie asks as they unseat chairs from tabletops while the sun makes an attempt to rise outside the coffee house.

"Late night," he says, shrugging. "Too many espressos."

She snorts at that. "You can never have too many espressos. Well, maybe _you_ can. You're twitching."

"I just stayed up too late," he reassures her. She just shakes her head, amused, and goes to unlock the door while Chris busies himself with sugar packets.

Zach comes in a few minutes later, hurrying and out of breath. "Hey Chris," he greets, smiling as he always does, and flushed from his hurrying. "I've got early call this morning, sorry, but I wanted to check in with the manager—"

"Right," Chris says quickly, gesturing toward Julie, who's already tuned in to their conversation.

"Is there a problem?" she asks, glancing between them.

"Oh, no, not at all," Zach assures her, squeezing Chris' arm before offering her the same hand; which she takes without hesitation. "Zachary Quinto. Chris said you might be able to help me with a standing order."

"Oh." She's squinting at him, in that way that people do when they're trying to place someone else.

Chris drifts away to start a latte, without really realizing he's doing it. It's capped and has Zach's name emblazoned on the side a few minutes later, just as Julie gets out a pen-presumably to take down Zach's information.

"Thanks," Zach says, looking pleased when they're finished and he's shaking her hand again. "I really appreciate it."

"It's our pleasure," she assures him; and definitely she's figured out who he is, or he told her; she's smiling goofily at him.

Zach excuses himself and comes over to where Chris and the latte are waiting. "Went well?" Chris asks, offering up the coffee.

Zach grins. "Done deal. She even agreed to let us have you; tied up with a bow and everything."

"I hope that's not literal."

"Why not?" Zach asks, blowing into the latte. "You're not into bows?"

Chris smiles at that. "Not really, no."

"Too bad. You'd look great in a bow. Bombay sapphire, to match your eyes."

"Um." Zach is smirking. Feeling flustered, Chris changes the subject. "So, when do we start?"

"Tonight." Zach grimaces. "And I have to go. So, I'll see you later? I gave Julie the address."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

"Great." Smiling again, he taps Chris' hand, which is flat on the counter, before turning to Julie. "Thanks again. Bye Chris."

He's gone, just as fast as he came, jogging off down the street. Julie turns to Chris, demanding, "Did you know that was Zachary Quinto?"

"Um, yes—"

"The actor?"

"Yeah, I—"

"Oh my _god_ , Chris," she huffs. "Zachary Quinto comes in here every day and you never told me?"

"Well, you never asked—"

"I would have changed my schedule if I had known." She's squinting at him. "You know he's got a crush on you, right?"

"What?" Chris shakes off her excited hand and goes to greet another customer, a woman who is even more of a rush than Zach was. "You're crazy," he tells her once the woman leaves with coffee in hand.

"I'm not. He said he only wanted our coffee if you made it. Actually, he said 'No Chris, no deal'. I mean he said it with a smile, but he seriously said that."

"Yeah, he likes the way I make lattes."

"No one likes their lattes that much."

"Zach does."

" _Zach_ does?" she parrots, her voice high and mocking. "See? I called him Mr. Quinto."

"You were doing a business transaction with him." But actually, that makes Chris smile. "Seriously, he doesn't have a crush on me."

"Just because you're straight," she says, looking way too amused, "it doesn't mean guys can't have crushes on you."

He's spared from having to actually pretend he is straight as another customer comes in, and then another after that—their morning rush. He thinks he probably shouldn't be so relieved. Zach has a boyfriend, and so a bit of innocent flirting doesn't mean anything.

-o-

He arrives at the park—Zach's shooting on location—a few minutes before he's supposed to be there, thanks to the exceptional directions provided by Zach. He has to get clearance from an official looking guy to bypass the barriers at the entrance, but his name's on a list so he's ushered in, delivery van and all.

He backs into a space near the rest of the cars and what looks like a makeup trailer. He can see Zach as soon as he hops out. He's surrounded by a bunch of people, but when he spots Chris, he grins and breaks away from the group to jog over.

"Chris," he calls, waving a little and it makes Chris smile. He lowers his voice when he gets closer, but not the excitement level. " _Hey_."

Chris looks him over, surprised. "You're all bruised up…"

"Nah, it's just make-up," Zach says, making a fluttering gesture with his hands.

"It's good make-up."

Zach laughs. "The make-up crew will love you. Come on—" He winds an arm through Chris'. "—everyone wants to meet you."

Chris lets Zach pull him along. There are tons of people, mostly standing around in clumps. Chris immediately recognizes the group he's pulled toward—other actors from Zach's series.

Zach introduces him without preamble—they've obviously been expecting him. They're all friendly, enthusiastic, and cold—since they're standing around in the windy dark without coats.

"I should get the coffee," Chris suggests. "It'll just be a second."

"I'll help." Zach's is not a suggestion, but Chris nods anyway, and they walk back together with Zach close at his side. And he thinks Julie might have had a point. Maybe, if there had been no Matt for the past week—although he's been absent for the last two days.

"Thanks for doing this," Zach says, rubbing his hands together—it's ridiculously windy—while Chris opens the van. "I mean, I know it's not usually your job."

"It's no problem," Chris assures him. "It's nice to get out of the store for awhile." He actually really likes being there—the smell of coffee, the low hum of conversation and soft music; the repetitive ease of making familiar drinks. It's a good place to think.

"Still though, thank you."

Chris smiles over at him, enjoys the way it makes Zach's own smile brighter for a second. Even though he probably shouldn't let his mind linger in that direction. "Oh," he says, remembering the flash drive in his pocket. He digs it out. "I brought this… it's just a few pieces, and I mean, you don't have to—"

Zach smiles, waggles his fingers. "Hand it over. I've wanted to read your stuff for months."

"For months?" Chris echoes, his stomach swooping pleasantly all the same. "You've only known me for six."

"And a week," Zach corrects. "What's your point?"

Laughing a little—and seriously, _do not go there_ , his brain tells him—Chris shakes his head. "Nothing." He reaches in for the trays of coffee, but Zach nudges him aside with a hip.

"Here. Let me help."

"You know you're paying me to do this," Chris tells him, amused as Zach tries to juggle them. "At least let me carry one."

"I got it," Zach says, swiping at his leg with a foot. "You can hand them out. Teamwork."

Still amused, Chris does as he's told, moving with him to the clumps of cast and crew. It's a large order—mostly lattes all around, with a few decaf coffees and cocoas sprinkled in.

The murmured appreciations are heartfelt from everyone, hands wrapping around warm cups. They save the actors for last—although if Chris would have been in charge of the handouts, he would have gone to them first. But Zach waits, and once all but the last latte have been handed out, he looks over to Chris. "There's only one left."

"I know. It's yours." Chris plucks it from the tray on which it is now precariously balanced and offers it. Zach frowns.

"Don't you want one?"

"Baristas don't drink on the job." He waggles the cup a little, smiling and although Zach looks dubious, he takes it. Chris takes the trays. "I should get back."

"Oh." Zach looks surprised, but he nods. "Sure, come on, I'll walk you."

Chris tries to protest that it's not necessary but Zach's already moving so Chris falls in step.

"Still good," Zach tells him, sipping at the latte and clearly savoring it.

"Don't sound so surprised."

Zach huffs in amusement, takes another sip. "I wasn't sure it would be, after travelling."

"It's not that far."

"True." They're at the van, Chris stowing the trays in the back. He closes the door and turns back to Zach, who is watching him over the rim of his cup.

"What?" Chris asks, feeling suddenly self-conscious at the scrutiny, but Zach just smiles and shakes his head.

"I should get back there," he says. "Thanks again for the coffee."

"Anytime."

A short hesitation and then Zach nods and turns away. He comes back a second later as Chris is opening his door. He's holding out a folded bill. "That's okay," Chris protests, but Zach places it into his palm, folds his fingers over it.

His hand is warm; heavy. "Take it," he says quietly, dark gaze steady.

And so Chris does.. "Thanks." He sounds hoarse, and if it wasn't for Matt… but Chris isn't going to think about that. People have crushes all the time. It doesn't mean anything. So, he smiles, tucks the money into his pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Zach agrees, still staring at him, smiling just a little. He reaches out and squeezes Chris' shoulder before turning around and walking swiftly back to his group. With his stomach tangled in knots, Chris gets back into his van and doesn't watch.

-o-

"You're his personal barista now?" Liv's voice cuts through the rest of Chris' anecdote about last nights' sojourn—too loud for the coffee house, even if they are about to close and no one else is around. She dropped by unexpectedly, wondering if he was free. They haven't talked for a few days, mostly because Chris hasn't called her back.

"Um, well, he asked—"

"He asked you to bring him coffee on set, so you just do it?"

"I…" She seems way too angry about it, and Chris isn't sure what to say. "He set it up with Julie, and he asked for me so—"

"He asked for you? _Specifically_?"

"Well. I guess—"

"This is weird, Chris. He's gay."

He can't help it; the accusation in her voice makes him stiffen. "So?"

"So," she echoes caustically. "He's gay and you're bi. Does he know you're bi?"

"Um, I don't know—"

"My sister said you would do this," she cuts him off, bitterness seeping into the words. "She said you weren't really even bi, that you had to be one or the other, and she was right, wasn't she? I mean you couldn't stop talking about his shitty boyfriend—"

"That has nothing to do with anything—"

"Oh really? Because he clearly has some crush on you, and you're running around after him, bringing him coffee—"

"I'm not running around after him—"

"Well, it looks that way to me."

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. "Look, this is silly. He has a boyfriend—"

She actually laughs; it's not a nice sound. "And that's all that's stopping you? God, if you want him so badly, you should go for it. I mean, we were never exclusive, right? So if you want your little fag—"

"Hey," Chris says sharply. "Don't call him that."

Her mouth twists, and he has never really noticed how harsh she can be. "Oh, sorry, I guess I should be more understanding that you want some fling with a guy? Because you're bi, right? And so it's okay?"

"If it was a girl, would you be this angry?" he shoots back, his face heating—although he's not sure if it's with anger or embarrassment. She purses her lips, eyes dark with renewed anger.

"No," she says flatly as she pushes her chair back. "I wouldn't. But this is my own fault for going out with you in the first place."

She turns away before he can untangle a reply; he stares at the table, his face flaming. He looks up when she mutters, "Oh my god."

Zach's standing by the door, eyes moving away from Chris and to Liv as she says savagely, "Of course you're here." She shoves past him, and stalks out the door.

Zach stares after her for a second, and then turns slowly back to face Chris. His eyes are confused. "I didn't realise you had a girlfriend."

It takes Chris a second to answer, to force his mouth to work. "She's not. I mean… we see each other sometimes. Not anymore, I guess…" He trails off, because Zach's dark eyes have narrowed, and Chris can't tell what he's thinking.

"I didn't realise you were seeing anyone."

Chris nods, because he doesn't know what else to do, although he feels like an apology might be what Zach's looking for. He's frowning now. Chris stands slowly, brushing his palms against his pants. "Um, so—"

"I just came to give you back your flash drive." He holds it out.

"Oh. Sure." Swallowing down the unexpected ache in his throat, Chris moves forward to take it. "Did you want anything? A latte, or—"

"It's late," Zach cuts in, and definitely, he's unhappy. Obvious since Chris has never seen that particular hard line of his mouth.

"Okay," Chris agrees quietly, although the late hour has never stopped him from indulging before.

Zach pushes his hands into his pockets, his shoulders stretching up to his ears. "I liked your stories," he says, but the words sound like an effort. "Especially the first one… It was good. It was you."

Chris tries to smile, but his muscles are uncooperative. "Thanks."

Nodding, Zach sucks on his bottom lip for a second before gesturing with a shoulder toward the door. "I should go."

"OK." Chris doesn't ask if he'll be back tomorrow, and Zach says nothing either way. He leaves without another word.

-o-

He doesn't come in the next morning. Not an evening visit either, although Chris sees him walking Noah across the street twice.

Chris debates calling him, but he has no idea what he would say. _Sorry I didn't tell you I sometimes hook up with someone? Sorry it was a girl?_

He's not even sure which part Zach is annoyed about. Liv's anger, he gets. It's not the first time being bi has cost him someone. Not that Liv being out of his life feels like a loss.

But _Zach_ —

And that's stupid, because they're just friends. At least they were. And it's the past tense that Chris is struggling with. What right does Zach have to be mad about Liv, anyway? He never said anything about wanting to be more than friends and as far as Chris knows, Zach is with Matt.

Even though he hasn't seen him for days now, and Zach hasn't mentioned him—not even once.

He just needs to stop thinking about Zach, which is easier said than done. But he tries, focuses on rearranging sugars and turning on lights so he can actually unlock the doors in time for the morning rush.

Which he does, with five minutes to spare. And it's only when he's turning the sign on the door to 'open' that he sees Zach out on the dark sidewalk, hands in his hoodie pockets and his breath visible. Concentrating on the swoop of his stomach for a second, Chris takes his time opening the door. It's been less than thirty-six hours since Chris last saw him; it feels like more.

"Hey," Zach says, and he sounds strange; tentative, which is an adjective Chris never would have used to describe him before.

"Hi." Chris opens door the rest of the way, and then steps back so he can come in.

He takes his cap off, and is just standing there twisting it in his hands, so Chris asks, "You want your usual?"

Zach lets out his breath. "Yeah. Thanks."

Chris nods, and goes over to the counter, Zach trailing after him, although he stays on his side. "So… uh…" Zach starts, pauses and starts again when Chris glances up from the foamy milk. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Oh. Well, that's good."

Chris turns his attention to the espresso machine. "Yep." He hears Zach sigh.

"Look, I think I should probably explain—"

Chris looks up, shrugs. "You don't need to."

"I do." But he's quiet then, no explanation forthcoming. Not until he sighs again. "I shouldn't have reacted like that… to her. I didn't know you were seeing anyone."

"You said." He means to sound agreeable, but it comes out too sharply. Zach frowns.

"Well, how should I have known? You didn't say."

"I wasn't seeing her. Not regularly, or whatever. She wasn't my girlfriend. And anyway," he ploughs over whatever Zach is about to say in response, "you were seeing Matt."

"I _stopped_ seeing him."

Chris swallows back his retort as those words sink in. As the wary expression on Zach's face sinks in too. "Because you wanted to…" He gestures with his thumb between them and that just makes Zach frown again.

"It's so difficult to say?"

"No, it's just…" But Chris shakes his head. "I didn't know. I mean, I thought…"

"I should have said something," Zach says, and it's softer. "I overreacted."

Chris shrugs, because he doesn't want to agree. Zach's lip quirks anyway, like he understands.

"I missed you," he says, fingers curling at the edge of the counter. "Yesterday."

That makes Chris' stomach swoop; but it's not entirely unpleasant. "Well, you could have come in."

Zach looks down at the counter. "Yeah," he agrees as he lifts his head. "I was busy overreacting."

Chris smiles at that. Zach smiles too; his eyebrows peak. "Did you miss _me_?"

Chris answers, just as soft, a little breathless, "I did. But," he says, cutting through Zach's brilliant smile, "I have to ask…"

Zach's smile slowly disappears. His eyebrows furrow, but he straightens them out again. "Anything."

Chris looks away for a second, trying to order his thoughts. "It's just… I'm bi."

"Yeah," Zach agrees, the vowels elongated questioningly. "I sort of got that."

"I know, but…"

"But?"

"Does it bother you?" Chris asks impatiently, an edge to his voice. " _Will_ it bother you?"

"Because it bothered her? Is that why you're asking?"

"Liv," Chris tells him, although he's not sure why. Zach doesn't acknowledge the correction, he just stands there waiting; patiently, as far as Chris can tell. "Not just her. It bothers a lot of people."

"But you tell them anyway?"

Chris doesn't answer immediately, unprepared to explain that he doesn't tell most people—and not even Liv; she'd already known from a mutual friend.

When he doesn't say anything, Zach says quietly, "You shouldn't have to hide anything. If it bothers someone, then they're a jerk."

Chris really has no argument, so he just nods. Zach rubs at his stubble—stubble, which he doesn't usually have. And when he opens his mouth again, the door opens and two customers come in, an elderly couple who are here at the same time every morning.

Reluctant, Chris waves his hand. "I have to…"

"It's fine," Zach tells him. "I'll just wait. If that's okay?"

"Sure, but don't you have call?"

"Not today." He steps aside to let the couple order, and Chris realises he didn't actually make him his latte. But Zach sits anyway, pulling a paper from the stack near the door and parking himself at a table. Chris finishes with the couple, makes a latte and brings it over to him.

Looking up from his reading—it's actually a rental magazine—Zach takes the proffered coffee with a smile. "Thanks."

"You looking for a new place?" Chris asks, hand curling around the back of the empty chair, wishing he could forego the rest of his shift and sit down.

"No. I like my apartment." His gaze travels up Chris' chest, to his face. "Good location."

Chris smiles, focused on matters at hand. "So…"

But there are more customers coming in—and Julie will be in soon. Zach stands up. "Can I come back later? I'm not working today."

"I'm off at eleven."

"I'll take you to lunch."

"OK," Chris agrees, and there is no time for anything else, since one of the customers is clearing his throat pointedly.

"Go," Zach orders softly, and Chris, with a last smile, does.

-o-

Unfortunately, the lunch hour also brings Liv, wearing high heels and a nervous face. She comes in a few minutes before eleven, and Chris wonders if she remembers his schedule or if it's just a coincidence. He's already put his apron away, his backpack going over his shoulders.

She sweeps the stray hair back from her face, offering a tentative smile. "Hi. Can I… Do you have a minute?"

"Um…" He glances back at the clock, steals a look down the street, but there's no sign of Zach yet. "I guess? Just for a minute."

She nods, still the weird smile. "I just wanted to apologize."

He tries not to make a disbelieving face at that. "Okay."

"It was unfair of me," she says haltingly, and she's different than she was two days ago, soft again like when he first met her. "I just… I was hoping. Anyway," she brushes that aside, possibly because Chris is gaping at her. "It doesn't matter. I just didn't want to leave things like that, saying such shitty things. I'm sorry."

"Well," Chris allows, still a little stunned that it seems she wanted something more. "I mean, I understand." He does, or at least he tries to understand the weird reaction people have to bisexuality.

Her smile is no less pained. "So? You and Zach? You know he's an actor…"

He tries not to smile, but he does anyway. "I know." As a general rule, he isn't always very fond of actors. Except his father and Katie. "And, I don't know yet. We have a date."

She nods too quickly, and he feels bad. "Have fun, okay?" she says. "And just… be safe, I guess?"

He's not sure what she means by that, and he's even more certain he doesn't like it; but says anyway, "I will." Still feeling weird and more than a little unsettled, he isn't sure how to end this appropriately but she solves that by leaning in and giving him the world's most awkward hug.

"Bye Chris." And with that, she's gone in a haze of perfume. It isn't until she's halfway to the door that Chris realises Zach is here too, standing next to the newspaper rack. Liv gives him a nod on her way out, which Zach doesn't return.

Chris crosses the room, navigating the tables until he's a few feet away. "Hey."

"Hi." Zach is watching his face, and after an awkward pause he takes a breath. "Are you, uh… That was Liv?"

"Yeah. She wanted to apologize."

"Oh."

"I have no plans to see her again," Chris adds, because the whole one at a time concept seems important to him.

That smile comes back, slow until it lights up Zach's face, and Chris finds his lips echoing. "Good," Zach says, brighter now, like he usually is when he comes in the mornings. He still hasn't shaved, Chris notices.

"Oh, I'm supposed to ask you," Zach adds.

"Ask me what?"

"Robert Pine isn't your father, is he?"

"Yes," Chris says with a smile. "He is."

"Wow, really? Kristen said he was, but I refused to google him to find out."

Chris laughs. "Well, thanks."

"I think I worked with your sister about a year ago. Katie Pine? Okay, _that's_ weird," he adds when Chris confirms it, mystified. "You can tell me all about growing up in Hollywood while we eat," Zach says, clearly delighted, and that's fine. It's kind of cute. "I wanted to take you to this place around the corner—it's vegan, though…"

"I like vegan."

"Do you?" Zach's excitement is catching. "Good. You ready then?" Chris half expects him to offer an arm as if they're in an old romantic movie. He puts a hand on his lower back instead and ushers him out the door. Chris finds the small gesture fills his stomach with butterflies; it's a nice feeling.

-o-

Lunch is fun, the food delicious; the conversation even better. And Chris is not at all surprised when Zach invites him over to his place—only a block away from the restaurant.

Which means he finally gets to meet Noah, who is full of kisses and enthusiasm. "Sorry," Zach says after the dog is ordered away. And he's trained well enough that he goes without protest.

"It's fine," Chris assures, wiping slobber off with a sleeve. "He's cute."

Zach smiles at that, pats the cute head. "Harold's around here somewhere. He'll turn up eventually. Do you want something to drink?"

Chris pats his stomach. "Still full from all that food. Thanks, by the way."

Smiling Zach moves closer, gaze moving over Chris' face speculatively. "You already thanked me."

"Did I?" Chris asks, not quite as casually as he means. "Well, you seem to have this thing for thanking people twice…"

"No, I don't," Zach says softly. He's fully in Chris' space now, a hand curling around one of his shoulders, thumb caressing "But thank you for coming with me."

"See?" Chris is breathless now, his heart thudding against his ribs. Zach smiles, squeezes his shoulder gently, like he's gauging Chris' strength and that's… it's good. Chris lifts his face, in the universal sign for yes please, I would like a kiss.

A sign Zach apparently knows. His fingers tighten, tugging him forward. It's slow at first, Zach's lips soft and welcoming, both of them taking their time to explore.

Somewhere along the way, Zach's hand migrates to his hair and even when they have to pause for air, he doesn't release him; just pulls back enough to look over Chris' face again.

"Bedroom?" he asks and Chris moves back in, breathing the yes into his mouth. Thankfully, his room isn't far and they make it over the threshold before Zach is kissing him again, walking him backward toward the bed.

And Chris is relieved—likes it better when his partner takes charge.

Zach's fingers are pressing indents into his shoulders. He groans into Zach's mouth, and it must be encouraging because he's kissed harder and nudged onto the bed.

Zach is heavy against him, just the right kind of weight. Chris draws him closer, until he can feel the press of his dick, hard against his thigh. He groans again, hips thrusting up on their own.

Zach grinds down, one hand solid against Chris' hip to hold him in place, and that's perfect. Just what he wants.

It takes ages for them to get naked—it feels like it takes ages. It might just be that Zach seems intent on exploring each new stretch of skin, measuring with his palm stretched over Chris' belly button, or with his lips as they kiss a trail upward; teeth as they gently close over a nipple.

Chris shudders at that; whines for more, his hands moving restlessly up Zach's arms. It makes Zach smile, and he's moving over Chris' body again until their dicks slide together, their mouths working. But Chris wants more friction, tries to press Zach into him by grabbing at his ass.

Zach takes his mouth away, to nibble along Chris' jaw while he undulates too slowly atop him. And when he gets to Chris' ear, he whispers, "You want me to fuck you?"

Chris clutches at his ass, hips thrusting up of their own accord. "Yes," he breathes. " _Please._ "

Zach kisses him just beneath his ear and slides away, reaching for a condom and lube, and then taking his time with fingers and tongue, stubble scratching. He hitches Chris' legs up, opening him wide and inching in slowly.

It's been awhile, but Zach is careful—gentle thrusts until Chris begs for more, curls up into it. And when he reaches for his own dick, Zach leans down, kissing him deeply while nudging Chris' hand away.

Chris lets him take over, moving to grip Zach's bicep instead, enjoying the feel of the taut muscle as Zach moves in and out of his ass. Moans into Zach's mouth, trying to pull him closer, lift his hips as much as he can.

The rhythm, so far unchanged, becomes erratic then, and Chris has to tear his mouth away to gasp a warning. But Zach just tugs harder at his dick, takes his mouth again and kisses him through it.

And then Zach's sticky hand moves to brace his hip, keep him where he wants him while he pushes into him, harder now, and with his own gasp, Zach comes too. Chris' fingers skim over his back, down his spine and it draws a shudder of final pleasure from him.

Chris smiles, closes his eyes. Zach is mumbling into the side of his neck, breath warm and lips pressing kisses. He sighs as he pulls out, catching the base of the condom as he rolls. Chris winces and gets kissed again before Zach settles beside him.

They stay that way for awhile, hands and lips wandering aimlessly while their hearts return to their normal paces, breaths eventually evening out. Chris, always a cuddler, shifts closer and Zach, it turns out, is also a fan. He lifts his arm so that Chris can get comfortable on his shoulder. His fingers brush through Chris' hair, and it's good. Chris likes the way his heart echoes beneath his ear.

"Do you have another shift today?" Zach eventually asks, all hushed in the quiet.

"Unfortunately," Chris mumbles into his damp shoulder.

"Can I pick you up after work?"

"Dunno," Chris teases. "Can you?"

Zach's fingers tighten against his skull, laughter huffing over his hair. "Oh, you're funny."

"I am funny. And grammatically correct," Chris says while his fingers enjoy the thick patch of hair in the middle of Zach's chest. "And yes, you may. You could come early and help me close up if you want."

Zach drops a kiss to the top of his head. "Sounds fun." He stretches, fingers scratching lazily between Chris' shoulder blades as he does. "They have no idea how lucky they are to have you, do they?"

Chris props himself up on Zach's chest, smiling at the way Zach's gaze immediately hones in on his face. "What do you mean?"

"You open and close almost every day."

"Not every day. Not on Sundays."

"Well, it is the lord's day."

Chris wrinkles his nose, which makes Zach smile. Smiling too, Chris adds, "It's also brunch with the family day." Which, also happens to be tomorrow. "Actually, I agreed to work tomorrow night. The manager's kid has a play or something. I like the schedule though. All my best writing comes in the middle of the day. Which, by the way, I'm missing out on to lounge in bed with you."

"Naked, I might add. But hey, maybe it will inspire the muses."

"With all the porn I write, sure," Chris says, nodding sagely. Zach smiles.

"Speaking of which—not the porn—but I really loved those stories you showed me." His nose wrinkles up this time, his mouth twisting. "I don't think I really made that clear enough, what with all my sulking, but I really did."

"It's okay."

"Well, no, it isn't. I read that first one twice. It was just… you're really talented, you know?"

Chris can't help the pleased flush that warms his face. "Thanks."

Zach leans down to kiss him. "You're welcome," he says quietly, "and I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before."

"You're fine," Chris assures him. "And besides, you're really good in bed, so…" He shrugs, and Zach laughs in surprise.

"Well, hey, nice to know it's good for something."

They spend a few more minutes kissing after that, Zach rolling Chris to his back again, hands framing his face in a way that promises things could get intense again. If Chris had the time. Which he doesn't. "As much as a I want to stay in bed all day with you," he mumbles between kisses.

"I know," Zach sighs, but doesn't let him go quite yet. Not until Chris is half-hard, and when he complains with a huff, Zach just grins. "Something to look forward to later."

And that's true enough. And more arousing than Chris thought it would be. He lets Zach kiss him a little longer, even rubs himself a little against his leg, which in turn makes Zach groan when he pulls away. "Turnabout's fair play though, right?" he teases.

"I'm not really interested in fair play," Zach retorts, taking his dick in hand and working him over until Chris is gasping, which is exactly when Zach pulls away. He's smirking, looking very pleased with himself. "You're going to be late if you don't hurry."

With a groan, Chris falls back against the pillow. His heart is pounding, a very pleasant effect of Zach's growled retort. If they had more time, he would definitely attempt some sort of begging. Zach is still smiling down at him, looking amused, but his cheeks are spotted red, his eyes bright with arousal.

Definitely, begging later.

"Want to grab a shower with me?" he asks, and Zach eyes him, still smirking.

"Only if you behave."

And that only encourages Chris' dick to thicken further. But he smiles. "I promise, I won't even try to touch you."

Which turns out to be a lie, not that Zach actually complains about the groping, or the second round of orgasms. At least they're both clean by the time they get out—Zach is also a fan of soaping him up, which Chris doesn't mind in the least.

Zach broaches the topic of exclusivity while they're getting dressed. "If that works for you," he adds, obviously trying to sound casual and failing. Chris isn't really surprised at the question, although he is a little surprised at his own lack of hesitation.

He rarely dates men—not long term, since it makes it difficult to keep his family out of his personal business. But he can make it work if he tries; they don't have to know. "I think it could work for me," he says, smiling.

Zach smiles too, seals it with a kiss before going to find his shoes. He hands Chris' over too. "We'll have to be sort of careful. Paparazzi," he explains when Chris looks up in confusion. "They're not awful or anything—sometimes. And I'm out so it's not a problem if they see us together, but it's better not to give them anything to make a story about. Private life private and all that." He's smiling, looks perfectly at ease and suddenly Chris can't look at him anymore.

"Oh," he says, focusing on his laces. "Okay, sure. That's probably better anyway."

"Better?"

Chris tugs at the cuffs of his pants before he straightens; tries to make his face easy. "I'm not really out, anyway, so…. Yeah, no PDA is probably a good rule."

Zach's eyebrows have scrunched together. "But… Liv knew…"

"We have mutual friends. One mutual friend, and he's gay. And anyway, you saw how that turned out."

"What does that mean?"

"People don't really get bisexuality," he says, with a shrug; because that's a good way to convey ease.

Zach's face though, is pinched with confusion. "What people? Why does it matter what anyone… wait, do you mean your family?"

"My family, friends. Some friends. I mean, it's not a big deal or anything, but we're not making an announcement to the media or anything, right, so—"

"Right, but—"

"I really do have to go," Chris tells him. "We'll figure it out later?"

"Um, okay…"

Chris smiles, as brightly as he can, and steps in to press a kiss to his lips. "Thanks for this. It was fun. And you know, _hot_."

"Yeah," Zach agrees, but his mind is still clearly with the no PDA clause.

"I'll see you later? A little before nine?"

"A little before nine."

Another quick kiss before Chris leaves.

-o-

Exactly ten minutes before nine is when Zach shows up. Chris is finishing a couple of orders, but except for those few customers the place is empty. Zach comes up to the counter, leaning sideways against it and greeting him with a silent raise of his eyebrows and a small smile.

Chris finishes up, coming around the counter as the last two people leave. "Hi," he says, already pulling off his apron. "How was the rest of your day?"

"Good. It was good. Yours?"

"Long," Chris says honestly. "But I think that's just because I was anticipating _this_." He leans in for a kiss. Zach moves into him, into the kiss. It takes awhile for them to come up for air. "Worth the wait," Chris tells him, smiling. Zach smiles with him. "This won't take long, and then I haven an idea for dinner."

"OK. How can I help?"

"Put the chairs up for me? I need to sweep, and empty the machines."

"I'll sweep," Zach offers. "Where's the broom?"

"You don't have to."

But Zach just makes an expectant eyebrow face, so Chris gives in and shows him where it is. He's a skilled sweeper, which seems weird for a minute, until Chris remembers he grew up in Pittsburgh with a single mother; far away from the Hollywood hills. The exact opposite of Chris' own childhood.

"Where did you want to go to dinner?" Zach asks as he dumps a small pile of debris into one of the bins. Chris is finishing up with the espresso machine, the damp rag dangling from his fingers.

"My place," Chris says with a grin. "I'm making you dinner."

"Oh. Really? OK."

Chris studies his face, concern replacing the excitement. "You okay?"

Zach nods, but his expression says otherwise, the reserve in his eyes. He palms the broom handle, his lips pressing together briefly. "I guess… I'm confused?"

"About what?"

"The PDA thing."

"OK?" Chris prompts, fingers restless with the rag. "Why are you confused?"

"It's just… I've been out for awhile, and it's… the thought of hiding this—you—I'm not sure I want to do that."

"Oh." Chris swallows, doesn't quite know where to look. Except at Zach's face, and the worry lining the planes. "Well. But, we wouldn't be hiding it exactly, right? You said it's better not to give the press a story."

"I meant not arguing in public, or yeah, probably not making out in the middle of the sidewalk in broad daylight, because people are still dicks. But they know I'm gay, Chris."

"Being gay is not the same as being bi."

"I know that," Zach agrees, his soft tone underscoring the edge in Chris'. "And, of course I understand if you need to get things squared with your family—"

"I can't tell my family."

That makes Zach pause, his mouth pursing for a second. "Not ever?" 

"No."

"But…"

"I can't, okay?" Chris' face is starting to feel hot, and the tension across Zach's shoulders isn't helping. "You saw how Liv reacted—"

"That was different."

"No, it wasn't different. It's always like that. And my family has this idea about me—you know what? It doesn't matter. It's just not an option." He swallows hard, keeps Zach's gaze with an effort. An effort of will to say evenly, "If that's not going to work for you, then you can just tell me. I understand."

The worst part is, he does understand. And he hates himself for it.

"Chris…" Zach takes a step forward, fingers touching down on Chris' arm, curling at his elbow. "I didn't mean to push."

"I know," Chris says stiffly. Zach's thumb is moving over his skin and Chris can't bring himself to pull away.

"I just don't want to hide again," Zach says softly. "I did that already. For so long. And I can't do it anymore."

"I understand." Chris pulls his arm away, tucking it against his side as he steps back. "I get it. You shouldn't have to hide."

"Chris—"

"No, it's okay, I promise. You should go though, okay?"

"You don't even want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about? You're right, it won't work." Chris' voice is shaky but he clamps down on it, and says. "You should go."

Zach stares at him, his eyes bright. "Okay," he finally says, and it's too high. "Okay. I guess I'll see you around then."

"Sure."

Zach turns away, and just like that, he's gone and Chris is left alone with the espresso machine.

-o-

He doesn't sleep well that night—not much at all, in fact. Even though he doesn't have to get up early for work, once six o'clock hits, he's awake. He has hours though before he has to be at his parents' house.

Takes him a portion of that to find the energy to get up and get showered. Dressed too, since the parents generally appreciate clothes during brunch. He doesn't bother beyond jeans and a t-shirt though; and a knit cardigan when he decides he's freezing.

Coffee doesn't help, and he ends up hunched over his laptop, taking out his emotions on fictional characters. All of which he ends up moving over into his graveyard of discarded words before finally setting the computer aside and going to fetch his keys.

There's an ache in his chest as he drives past Zach's apartment. It stays with him all the way to his parents' house.

"Aren't you too warm?" his mother greets him with a kiss and a concerned look over his sweater.

"No, I'm good, Mom. How are you?"

"Just fine, sweetheart. Are you getting sick?" She touches his forehead, but Chris ducks away.

"I'm fine. Where's Katie?"

"On the patio with your father."

He nods, but his mom is still watching him with concern as they walk toward the back of the house. He sighs inwardly and gives her a smile. "I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night."

And that's a mistake. The furrow of concern becomes a frown, because, of course, every little change in routine means death is imminent—at least where Katie and Chris are concerned.

"I'm not sick," he promises. "I just had a lot on my mind."

And that's not much better, but at least she stops asking him if he's taking vitamins. His dad and Katie are already sitting at the table, some kind of brunch cocktail in hand. There's a fifth member of their usual quartet, an overdressed guy, who is obviously the latest in Katie's string of men.

"You're late," Katie tells him with a smile, standing up to hug him. "This is Hugo."

_Hugo?_

Chris offers a hand, finds the dark-haired guy has a British accent, thinks little of it—he's probably someone she met on the set of her current movie, and says, "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine."

Chris gives a little nod at that, ignores the fact that the British guy is eyeing him curiously and goes to take his seat, squeezing his dad's shoulders on the way past, "Hey, Dad."

"You look tired," is his father's response to that. It's a conspiracy. Chris just smiles, reaches for the orange juice at his plate—sans alcohol.

"I was up late writing," he lies.

"Is that what you were doing?" Gwynne asks as she straightens a tray of sandwiches on the buffet table.

"Not out late with a girl?" Katie teases over the rim of whatever she's drinking. Chris manages a tight smile.

"Nope. Just writing."

"What happened to Liv?"

Chris maintains his smile and counts to five, because it's not Katie's fault that he's a coward and can't admit to something he's known most of his life. "Nothing happened to her."

"Are you still seeing her?"

"Oh, did you meet someone, Chris?" his mother interjects, surprised and pleased all at once.

Yes. Someone amazing, who happens to have a set of testicles. "I went out with her a few times," he says. "Nothing important."

"That's too bad. You'll meet someone nice. Just keep trying."

"Yep. Always trying." His voice is tight now too, he realises. "I'm starving."

Katie opens her mouth, most likely to rib him for his appetite, so he beats her to it, "I'm always starving, I know. Can we eat?"

He stands up, ignores her frown—his mother is probably frowning too, but the ache has spread to his chest; trying to creep up his throat, and he just doesn't care. Someone nice. Exactly what Zach is. And Chris had to fuck it up with his cowardice. He's a grown man, not financially dependent on his parents, not outwardly seeking their approval. God knows he ruined that chance the minute he dropped out of grad school.

My son, the barista. Not exactly a sentence two parents can wave around with pride. _My son, the bisexual barista_. There's always worse.

"You okay?" Katie, right by his elbow. He wrestles back the emotion clouding his throat and nods.

"Just tired."

But Katie catches his arm. "Hey," she says, in all seriousness, the teasing left behind. "What's wrong?"

They have their backs to their parents—and to Hugo. And in that instant, Chris wants to tell her, his chest sharp with anger and regret. But the cowardice wins out. He lets out a breath, and it helps a little. "Nothing," he says quietly. "Really, I'm fine."

"Is it Liv?" she asks. "I thought it was just a casual thing."

"It was."

"Oh." She nods, her fingers squeezing his arm sympathetically. "And you wanted more. I'm sorry—"

He pulls away. "That's not it."

"Okay. It's okay, Chris."

"No, it's not actually." He sets his half-filled plate down with a clatter. "It's really not."

"Chris, honey, what's wrong?"

Chris pulls away from his mother too. "What's wrong is I fucked up the best thing that's happened to me in a long time because I'm a coward."

"What do you mean?" Katie asks. "Liv didn't—"

"Not Liv," Chris snaps. "Zach. _Zach_ , the guy from the coffee shop, who I didn't even realise I'm apparently in love with and couldn't stop talking about and just like everything else, I fucked it up."

He wants to suck the words back in as soon as they're said, his chest squeezing tight and his stomach churning as he stares at his gaping family. He doesn't wait for them to find their words.

He pushes past his sister, who calls after him a few seconds later—once he's cleared the patio. But Chris keeps going, doesn't look back.

-o-

He spends the rest of the day alternating between attempting to write, attempting to sleep and watching a marathon of Dawson's Creek, but not really seeing it. He finally calls into work and offers to come in early. The night manager readily accepts, eager to leave early and go out to dinner with his family. So, Chris takes his place, glad to have something else to do besides thinking about Zach—and the fact that his sister keeps calling him.

He shuts off his phone and concentrates on cappuccino, even getting creative with the foam, which he usually leaves to his co-workers.

It doesn't really help.

But at least he's busy. Busy enough that he barely notices the clock as it ticks toward nine.

It's 8:55 when the last few customers straggle out the door, and Chris starts to empty the coffee filters. It's weird, sometimes, how much he relies on the repetitive work—to free his mind and his creative processes.

Not tonight though. He struggles with the last filter, finally snarling in frustration and shoving it back into place.

"Jesus," he mutters to himself. The tiny bell on top of the door announces a visitor, and Chris pivots, prepared to tell whoever it is that they're closed. The words die on his tongue.

Zach is standing just inside the door, wearing the ugliest striped hoodie Chris has ever seen. It clashes horribly with his beanie. He smiles, just a small movement, but Chris' heart clenches all the same.

"Hey," Zach offers quietly.

"Hey."

He doesn't know why he goes, but he does. Across the coffee house and straight into Zach's arms, who folds him in without question. He's cold from the night air, nose especially where it presses to skin, but his breaths are a warm counterpoint.

"I missed you," he mumbles into Chris' ear.

"I missed you too." He has to swallow twice, and close his eyes to better concentrate on the way Zach's arms hold on. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong." Zach's voice is uneven too. "I didn't mean to pressure you. I don't want to. We can figure it out. Whatever you want to do."

"We don't have to figure anything out."

"Chris—"

"I told them."

Zach stills, and it's too quiet. But then he's pulling back to cradle Chris' face in his hands. His eyes are wide, his cheeks flushed from the cold. "Your family? You did? But, you didn't have to do that. Not for me—"

"It wasn't," Chris cuts him off, but gently; quiet. He fingers curl in Zach's hoodie, on either side of his waist. "I didn't even mean do it. I snapped. It just sort of came out, and it was awful…"

"I'm sorry," Zach whispers. "I'm so sorry." He kisses him softly, and Chris sinks into it, holding on as tight as he can as Zach brings him closer until they're pressed together from mouths to feet. Zach only pulls back enough to mumble, "I'm sorry they didn't support you."

But Chris shakes his head, just a little so he won't dislodge Zach's hands. "I just left," he tries to explain. "After I told them about you. I just left. They just stood there, staring at me, and I couldn't…" Tears well up, and he tries to blink them back, swallow through it, but Zach just leans in and kisses his forehead before pulling him close again. "I didn't know what to do."

"It's okay. You don't have to know what to do."

Chris just lets Zach hold him then. Eventually, he closes his eyes and has to admit, "I think they think I'm gay. I don't think I can tell them—"

"You don't have to."

Chris inhales slowly, and just nods into Zach's neck. There are so many things he wants to say, things they should probably talk about.

"You know you're shivering," Zach says after awhile. Chris didn't know, but he shrugs. Zach kisses the side of his head and steps back, already crossing his arms to grab at the hem of his hoodie.

"No, that's okay—"

But Zach pulls it off anyway, shakes it straight again. "Come on, arms up."

Chris makes a moue of discontent at him, but Zach just smiles expectantly so Chris takes it from him and shrugs it on over his work polo. Zach tugs it into place and looks very pleased with himself as he untwists the hood at the back.

"Better?"

Still mixed up, Chris can only nod.

"Good," Zach murmurs, rubbing his arms to encourage the warmth. "Let me help you finish up here," he says, "and then we can go somewhere. Talk, or not, whatever you want." Zach chafes his arms again, smiles hopefully. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Chris says, smiling too. "That sounds good."

-o-

Somewhere turns out to be Chris' place—because he has food in his fridge. "You need someone to shop for you," Chris mumbles after food has been consumed and they're tangled on the couch; conversations about coming out having been more or less avoided. He shifts to get more comfortable against Zach's side. "Don't you have an assistant?"

Zach has his nose buried in Chris' hair. "My assistant just quit. And anyway, I'm not sure assistants do that." He sounds amused. Chris smiles, takes up his hand.

"I'll shop for you. I know the best places for organic vegetables."

Tangling their fingers together, Zach laughs, "You don't have to shop for me."

"I like shopping. And if I ever get a house, I'm going to plant a garden—grow my own vegetables. Maybe I'll even have some orange trees."

"And you'll share with me," Zach prompts.

Chris smiles. "I'll share with you."

Zach rubs his palm against the top of Chris' hand, making a sandwich between his own. "You're always surprising."

Glancing up at him, Chris smirks. "It surprises you that I know how to share?"

"No," Zach retorts, squeezing his hand. "Gardening. Just like it surprised me that you're a writer. And that you like to shop…" He smiles at that one, teasing; Chris grins.

"I'm a complicated guy, Zach, what can I say?"

Zach studies his face for a second before leaning in to kiss him softly. "You're not that complicated."

Chris isn't sure what to say to that, so he just moves in so that Zach can kiss him again. For a long time, the heat growing between them until Zach finally pushes him back into the cushions, holding him there and kissing him until none of the rest of it matters.

-o-

Chris likes that Zach is a morning person. They wake up early the next morning—both of them needing to be to work by six. It's been a long time since Chris had someone in his bed in the morning, and it's nice. Because Zach is soft and welcoming, pulling at him for slow kisses.

For slow sex—a repeat of last night, both of them relieved to be together again. This morning too, and it's weird how much Chris really did miss him—the ache that resurges when he thinks about telling him to leave.

Somewhere along the line, he thinks, Zach became essential.

"I'm glad you came back," he says between kisses; as they move together. Zach smiles, settling their foreheads together and fucks him unhurriedly.

The pleasure builds leisurely, in increments, measured in soft inhales and shaky sighs. And when they fall, it's a slow descent too.

"You're incredible," Zach sighs, once they've rearranged and settled, face to face and curling into each other. He leans in to kiss at Chris' shoulder. "That was good."

"Mm." It's the best Chris can manage, and it makes Zach smile.

"Come on," he says, tweaking a nipple lightly. "My coffee won't wait."

"It has to wait until I make it," Chris points out, but Zach just nudges him. It's not until Zach smacks him lightly on the hip that Chris finally moves. "Okay, okay…"

"Good boy," Zach says approvingly, and Chris glances back at him, studying the glint in his eye. It makes his pulse pick up. Definitely, something else to be explored. Later, when work—and Zach's coffee—isn't waiting.

The shower is sans orgasms, although Zach soaps him up again anyway, while Chris stays still—mostly—at his amused request; he's ticklish. It's fun, and they're both smiling as they get dressed again and collect wallets and keys.

They're at the door when the buzzer from the street goes off. Frowning, Chris steps past Zach and presses the talk button. "Hello?"

"Chris, _jesus christ_ ," his sister's exasperated voice fills the apartment. "Buzz me in. It's freezing."

Chris has a mild panic then, his finger moving off the panel. But she already knows he's here. Zach is standing behind his shoulder now. "My sister," Chris tells him and understanding dawns over his face.

"I can go."

And that might be better, but Chris finds himself shaking his head. Zach massages his neck. "Staying," he agrees. With his hand solid where it rests, Chris buzzes her in.

Zach releases him before she comes in, and Chris wishes he hadn't. "Hi," he greets her, mouth barely moving. Whatever exasperation she came with drains away as she looks between them.

"Okay, so you're Zach," she says, looking both impressed and amused. To Chris she says, "You didn't tell me he was an actor."

"It's five-thirty," he informs her, crossing his arms over his chest; and wishing again for the warmth of Zach's palm. "Why are you here?"

"I have to be on set at six-thirty."

"Okay. So?"

She sighs, and it's completely unexpected—although it probably shouldn't be—when she wraps her arms around him. "It's fine," she tells him quietly. "It's fine, and I love you."

Tears well up in his eyes, and he's hugging her back. Just for a second, before he's pulling away to wipe at his face. But Zach's there, his fingers suddenly steady against his neck once more. Chris swallows hard.

"Thanks," he says, finally able to look his sister in the eye. She smiles, includes Zach in that as well; extends a hand to grip his arm briefly.

"He didn't tell me it was you. We worked together—"

"On Volmer's film. I remember," Zach says with a smile. His fingers are brushing absently through the hair at Chris' nape.

"That was before you met though, right?" she asks.

It's Zach who answers, "Five months before." Chris glances quickly at him, wondering if he remembers the exact day he started coming into the coffee house. Zach nudges him with a hip. "You've been talking about me?"

Chris flushes at that, and Zach doesn't pursue it, but he's obviously pleased.

"Constantly," Katie confides, and Chris is too tensed up to protest. She stops smiling and the rhythm of Zach's fingers against Chris' nape becomes more deliberate. "Mom and Dad are fine. They will be fine," she amends reluctantly when he just stares at her. "I think they're mostly upset that they never knew."

They don't know even now. Not everything, and neither does Katie. But Chris isn't ready to tell; he's not sure he ever will be. And right now, it doesn't matter. It's been his mantra for years.

"She tried to call you," Katie says quietly.

"I know." Guilt bites at his chest.

"And you know Dad will wait until she does."

Chris does know that. "I'll call them back." Not yet. Maybe not even today. But soon.

Katie nods, squeezes his arm. "I should go. Call me later too, okay?"

"I will."

She kisses his cheek, one for Zach as well, with a quiet, "Good to finally meet you," before slipping out the door.

They stay that way, Zach's fingers scratching at his neck. "How do you feel?"

Chris considers, but can't find an answer. "I'm not sure." He feels Zach nodding. A kiss is pressed to his hair. It's easier to breathe. "You ready for your caffeine jolt?" Chris asks.

"Only if you're making."

Chris turns, a smile tugging at his lips. "Keeping another barista in the wings, are you?"

Zach cradles his face, face softening into a smile. "Christopher," he says quietly, "I have a tab at the coffee house where you work. Where I go at least twice a day. I hired out your delivery service just to make sure I would see you when late calls keep me away."

"So, is that a no?" Chris asks, trying not to grin too broadly.

Zach kisses him softly. "No other baristas for me."

 _Essential_ , Chris thinks again. Maybe for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. And thanks to Juno for pushing me to post.
> 
> There's [art](http://artlesstumbles.tumblr.com/post/101362558701/mohtz-im-a-complicated-guy-zach-what-can-i) for this now, and it is perfect and beautiful. Love it. Thank you.


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